


silent knight

by seventhstar



Series: The Order of the Seventh Star [1]
Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher, Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fallen Angels, Gen, Knights - Freeform, Murder, The Order of the Blackened Denarius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 08:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3803260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhstar/pseuds/seventhstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only difference between good and evil is disillusionment.</p>
<p>Durbe becomes a Denarian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	silent knight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rangerhitomi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerhitomi/gifts).



The only difference between good and evil is disillusionment.

Durbe was a good man once, and now he is, he supposes, a bad one. He’s just not sure, looking back at his life, that it isn’t an improvement.

He wishes that his comrades were as sure.

+++++

_“Sir Durbe?”_

_Durbe paused, his shovel halfway off the ground. His shoulders and arms were burning; he’d been helping dig irrigation channels all day. He had the beginnings of a bright red burn over his nose, over his bare back. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes._

_“Yes?”_

_The farmer’s wife smiled at him. Durbe couldn’t remember her name. She offered him a cup of water, and he drank it all down, even though it was metallic and brackish. The heat was oppressive today._

_Normally he remembered people’s names. Normally he would have been happy to work all day and all night for the people he had sworn to protect._

_Today was not a normal day. Durbe handed the woman back to the cup, nodded to her in thanks, and went back to digging. He didn’t trust his voice._

_“One third,” he whispered. His shovel hit rock, and the impact went up his arms. He shuddered. “One third!”_

_One third of the kingdom’s income, embezzled by the king’s council. Durbe had spent hours chasing down the royal ledgers, adding up figures by candlelight, gathering evidence against the council. He’d laid out his case in front of the king’s guard and the monarch himself. Durbe had served the kingdom since he was a boy. He was known for his loyalty, for his honor. He’d hoped he would be believed._

_He’d been believed, all right. The guards had laughed. The kign had smiled at him like Durbe was a petulant child he was scolding._

_Of course, the king had said, the council was embezzling. Why did Durbe think the peasants’ taxes were so high?_

_“But your majesty,” Durbe had said, “shouldn’t you stop them?”_

_“Durbe,” the king had said, “If I did, none of my councilors would remain!”_

_Like it was a joke, that men, women, and children went hungry in his kingdom due to high taxes. Like the one third being pocketed by men who were already rich was a game._

_He had not returned to the castle since then. He was not sure he ever could._

_His entire life, he had wanted to be a knight, because that was the way he could do the most good._

_He’d done nothing. Durbe snarled and slammed the shovel into the earth again. He ached, but he paid it no mind; there was no pain worse than his disappointment._

+++++

There are seven of them in this order. They call themselves the Order of the Seven Stars, after the asterism they all take their names from. All of them have different backgrounds, and different abilities, but they are all the same in one way.

They lead their Fallen. Their Fallen don’t lead them.

(Most of the time. Durbe has long held suspicions about Merag and Lasciel, but he has no way of knowing, not yet.)

Durbe’s Fallen is Ordiel. Ordiel’s motif is that of the classical image of the Fallen; in their combined form, Durbe has full, feathery black wings, and a dark halo. In truth, he is one of the more minor Fallen, but even the least of the thirty have limitless knowledge. Ordiel’s magic lends itself mostly to electricity and light; beyond that, Durbe’s area of expertise within the Order is of technology.

Hacking into systems. Making sure all of their equipment is up to par. Providing protection from magic for their systems. Durbe can remember an era when being able to read was a skill reserved for the rich and powerful. The Internet is perhaps his favorite thing.

The others depend on him, particularly their newer recruits. Both Gilag and Mizael have difficulty with aspects of the modern world, even now. Gilag is set in his ways and resistant to change, and Mizael has dragon blood in him and so disdained ‘human’ innovation.

Being needed, Durbe has found, is a useful thing. Much more so than being liked, or being loved, or being wanted. The Order is a simple place. He gets what he needs from the others, and they give what he needs to him, and the world creeps closer to apocalypse everyday.

He appreciates the efficiency of it. There’s no morality to a well-organized life.

+++++

_The magicians of the course kept their treasures in a vault beneath the castle. Those who were trusted took their turns guarding it; Durbe was not usually on the rotation._

But on that night, he requested a shift. It was a night of celebration, he said; why not let the palace guards have their rest? The head guard agreed, gladly, and Durbe took up his post.

_He’d seen the king and his council, dressed in their gilt-edged finery, reveling and downing bottles of wine. He’d seen the people gathered outside the castle gates to beg for coins from the nobles arriving. He’d seen the carriage doors shut in their faces._

_There were two keys to the vault. One was kept in the head guard’s office; one was around the king’s neck._

_Durbe gripped the stolen key tightly as he waited for the right moment. The king had embraced him, and suspected nothing._

_When the celebration began to die down, and he knew that the halls would be empty, he struck._

_The door’s hinges were well-oiled; it opened soundlessly. Inside there was gold, jewels, books. Durbe could not help but examine the titles written elegantly on the spines. There was a heavy tome with a black leather cover, written in a language that Durbe did not speak, that called to him._

_It took him too long to tear his gaze away from it, and retrieve what he had come for._

_There was a small chest, on one shelf. Durbe had delivered it here himself, having won it from a terrible, half-horse monster. Inside there was a single silver coin._

_It had spoken to him once. Durbe had refused, convinced that his restraint was what made him a good knight, sure it would be safer in the king’s hand._

_Now he reached for it. Hesitated. Let it touch the tips of his fingers._

+++++

It’s not that Durbe doesn’t believe there are valuable things about the world. Things worth saving. Goodness. That kind of thinking is mad, and he doesn’t believe in it.

It’s just that he has seen, firsthand, how inevitable corruption truly is. The scales have fallen from his eyes. He’s seen the truth.

Good? Evil? Everyone is one step away from crossing the line. It’s easy to see from the other side.

He doesn’t regret anything.

+++++

_“Sir Durbe! Sir Durbe!” One of the palace servants yanked at his arm. Things must be dire, Durbe thought, if the servants are taking liberties. It was a stable boy, with sandy hair and tear tracks on his cheeks. He looked terrified._

_“Yes?”_

_“Sir, the king is dead.” The boy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And all his councilors. And most of the royal guard. What’s going to happen?”_

_Durbe looked at him._

_It was true; they were all dead. Poisoned. They had died writhing and screaming and foaming at the mouth. They had died delusional. They had died messily and they died ugly._

_“Why are you asking me?” he asked. He pushed the boy off his arm. He dug into his pocket, and produced a handful of coins. “Take these. Go home to your family.”_

_“But —”_

_“You’ll be safer there.” Durbe smiled at him. “Trust me.”_

+++++

Nasch is one that recruits him into the Order.

He is their first recruit. The two of them are young, younger than Durbe, just come into their coins, but they already have the presence of true threats. They’re twins, both water wizards with great talent. Young and beautiful and terrifying.

Durbe joins them to steal Anduriel, the Fallen Nasch hosts. He is the most powerful, the most notorious of his kind. Ordiel is nothing in comparison. He thinks it will be easy.

The days blur into weeks, the weeks into months, the months into years. Sharing a mind with an immortal affects Durbe’s perception of time. The Order begins to come together. Things began to move.

He never does find a way to steal Anduriel, though the thought lingers in the back fo his mind. But he finds a place in the Order that satisfies him. He finds things to do to accomplish his goals.

It’s comfortable enough. He stays.

 


End file.
